An Average Day
by Technical Technicalities
Summary: It was just another average day, Stan convinced himself. {Pairing: Style}


It was just another average day, Stan told himself. He and his best friend were positioned on the couch, watching old reruns of unknown television shows. Kyle had his head in the crook of Stan's neck, and honestly, it made him feel nervous. Kyle had done it countless times before, so why was Stan just now noticing?

It was just another average day, Stan said in his mind. Kyle had pressed his body into Stan more, causing him to break out into a cold sweat. He assured himself that they were just really...close friends. Yes. Really close best friends. Other best friends did this all of the time with their pal. This was completely normal, he assured himself. A little part of his mind begged to differ, but he paid no heed. He was definitely straight, no feelings here at all. There had been no feelings the previous week, this week wasn't going to be any different.

It was just another average day, he tried to convince himself more. Kyle let out a contented sigh and wrapped both his arms around Stan, leaning into him even more. That all too familiar feeling of bile started to rise in his stomach, and he desperately tried to contain it, using sheer willpower. This would be normal...if Kyle were a girl and not his best friend. He was not going to spill his contents all over his best friend, he only did that for girls he liked. Not boys. Not at all boys.

It was just another average day, Stan helplessly tried believing his own words. Kyle eventually pulled the blanket over the both of them, and snuggled into Stan's side more, now wrapping his arms around his torso rather than his shoulders. Stan was so nervous, and he just couldn't tell why. Kyle was perfectly relaxed, eyes glued to the soft television screen. Why was Stan such a huge ball of nervousness? It had definitely not been that way last week. Why was this happening to him? Was he possibly...in love with his best friend? He immediately waved such a ridiculous notion off. He was completely straight, this was completely straight, no homosexual undertones lying underneath here. The nagging feeling at the back of his brain began to eat him away gradually. Stan was losing the very shred of hope (and heterosexuality) that he clung onto as Kyle absentmindedly stroked his thigh. His own breathing became ragged as he tried not to shudder at the movement.

It was just another average day, Stan told himself again. He was losing his own battle against himself. Part of him was telling him that this was not how best friends would act, but another hopeful, naïve part of him told him that everything was all right, Kyle was most definitely not coming onto him, no, he was just stroking his thigh because...maybe he wanted a cat? The losing side of him half-heartedly clung to its own delusional theory, wanting to believe that Kyle was just acting normal. They had done this before, and Stan was completely confident in his own straight-ness, he did not need any convincing that he liked the female anatomy. This event right here was now making him doubt himself. Each time Kyle's deft fingers brushed over his upper leg, the winning side of him crushed his hopeful side just a little bit more. He was sweating in this house, even though it was but a mere sixty degrees.

It was just another average day, the small part of his mind said to him. Kyle still had one arm wrapped around him, the other still touching his thigh. All of a sudden, Kyle's head bopped up and kissed Stan's cheek. "Thank you for inviting me," he smiled curtly at the raven-haired boy, and, just as quickly as the event had happened, it ended, and the position that had been there earlier now was assumed again, complete with Kyle's leg touching. That was it. This whole hang out had escalated into something completely gay, Stan determined to himself. This was most definitely not normal...and if he was straight, then why did he enjoy the soft pressure of Kyle's lips against his skin? A kiss from your best friend is supposed to be awkward, not desirable. Stan creaked his head down ever-so-slightly, so that he was staring at the top of his friend's lime green ushanka. He desperately wanted to try to kiss Kyle on the lips this time, would that make a difference? Would that finally put a called-for end to the ceaseless butterflies in his stomach? He shook his head, telling himself no, that he was acting completely opposite of what he was at this moment. As if Kyle could feel his burning gaze, Kyle looked up and met Stan's sapphire-blue orbs with his own vibrant, forest-green eyes. A light blush sprinkled Kyle's face, as he leaned closer to Stan's face. Stan felt as if it were a sauna in here, and he tried to tear himself away from Kyle's piercing stare, but he couldn't. He was trapped like a deer in headlights. Kyle was right there...ready...was he? Perhaps Kyle only wanted to study his hat? Stan's irrational train of thought was interrupted with a lean closer from his red haired companion. Their faces were about four inches away from each other. Finally intending to close the gap, mainly because he just couldn't stand the tension anymore, Stan pressed his lips to Kyle's, just for a fleeting amount of seconds. His breathing became heavier now, as Kyle's eyes fluttered open in shock after they pulled apart.

It was just another average day, as Kyle sat up and pressed a finger to Stan's heaving chest. Both of them were slightly out of breath, as if kissing could wear someone out. Kyle tilted his head to the side, clearly asking if Stan was okay. He had sort of wanted Stan to kiss him, and he was extraordinarily glad that he had. However, a tiny part of him wanted to go die in a hole too. Stan would never reciprocate his feelings, it was only lust, Kyle told himself. Stan only grabbed Kyle's face, self-doubt and thoughts of being completely straight gone, as he crashed his lips into Kyle's. It lingered for a few moments more than the first had, and their eyes met yet again.

It was just another average day, as Kyle quickly retrieved his coat off the coat hanger and left Stan's house to face the harsh, wintry cold outside. Stan could only stare at his retreating figure, full of sorrow, and also full of giddiness. He would like to do this again, Stan thought to himself. He knew now that he wasn't fully straight, he was aware of that.

This day hasn't been so average at all, as a matter of fact.


End file.
